Like a Gift
by Larrkin
Summary: Mugen is acting up more than usual after his birthday spanking and Jin decides to do something about it. A sequel to A Special Gift of Attention. WARNING: this story contains MM spanking. Don't like, don't read. Thanks.


_Beta appreciation notes go out to Laura and Far Strider. Thanks ladies!_

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. I don't own these characters nor am I making any money writing this story._

_This is another one for best girlfriend Laura, squeeing 'ploo fangirl. Thanks for letting me play in your sandbox, darlin', and for all your encouragement and advice._

**Like a Gift**

by Larrkin

It began after the birthday spanking I gave him. Mugen responded to that in ways that I know shocked him. Fuu and I had enjoyed the whole thing as well, so it had been a surprising affair for all three of us, Fuu as a fervent spectator, me as an enthusiastic administrator and Mugen as a most unwilling-turned-eager recipient. We had been shocked by the intensity of the passion it kindled, especially Mugen, who fell into a submissive role during his spanking that, as he later put it, 'blew me away!'

Yes, oh, yes. I, too, had been most heartily blown away. And Fuu became as thrilled as she always does when life hands her something new and unexpected to play with. When we finally wore ourselves out, she had been the first to voice her approval of the entire matter.

"_That was fun!"_ she had said, a damp heap of satisfied femininity, sluggish and stretched out on the sheets. _"Can we do that again sometime, Jin?"_

"_Do what?"_ Mugen had managed to mutter, his voice thick and slurring with contentment. _"We did lots of different fun stuff. What exactly d'ya want to do again?"_

"_Have wild sex after Jin spanks you,"_ she boldly responded. I winced. This little one completely loses her discretion when bathed in afterglow.

"_Oh, right!" _Mugen exclaimed with a predictable burst of indignation _"Yeah, great! Let's just do that. Only this time YOU get to go over his fuckin' knee and have your ass walloped until it's on fire!"_

Fuu squeaked, then giggled, saying_, "Noooo, no,no,noooo! Watching you kicking and gasping and squirming over Jin's knee, and your 'pretty little bottom' getting redder and redder as he spanks you and spanks you – that's what made the sex afterwards especially fun!"_

"_Fuu," _I interjected in a governing tone._ "Enough." _Too late, I feared. Mugen was already ignited.

"Oh, izzat so? Well, I think -"

Yes, indeed, too late. They were off and running, smacking each other back and forth verbally with whom should go over my knee and who should get to feel the effects of my spanking and why the other one was the finest and most logical candidate. I listened, fascinated by the power of what I had done to Mugen. That relatively simple act, undertaken in fun, had hurled the three of us into an unexpected sensual frenzy and was now the topic of a much-heated argument. I agreed with Fuu. We must do that again!

And that was when it began. I started noticing something curious in Mugen's glances, a silent invitation of sorts, usually issued after some spectacular and needlessly stupid display of dangerous misbehavior, a challenge for me to do something. I swear he began to silently bellow: _ "Well? Come on, what'ya gonna do about it, huh? Spank me?" _

I swear I was not mistaken. I was not seeing something that wasn't there. I questioned myself, though. I dismissed the notion again and again. This was, after all, Mugen. But then I would see that antagonistic glance fired my way once more and once more I would sense that need within him to rile me up.

I wondered if he knew what he was asking for. Mugen was easily tempted and he often reached for something before considering what it might be like to truly have that something. This was a perfect example. I had given Mugen a birthday spanking, a playful spanking, although I had, admittedly, indulged us both with a little added thrill by making my spanks count. I had wanted him to feel sore the next day – a little reminder stamped on his insolent ass – Jin was here. A little satisfying feel of attention paid.

If my suspicions were correct, though, if Mugen was craving another spanking and seeking it with his misbehavior, I had to wonder if he knew what he was inviting. A disciplinary spanking would be an entirely different experience than his playful birthday spanking had been. His birthday spanking stung, and Mugen's eyes had been glassy when I hauled him up from my lap, but if I ever administered a disciplinary spanking he would not be able to hold back his tears. I would expect to see them. I would demand them. He would shed them despite any defiance and despite his best efforts to remain untouched.

For a disciplinary spanking was undertaken with entirely different intent. It was not the least bit playful. It was meant to make a sincere point, to answer a sincere need. If Mugen decided that he needed that, I would provide it without hesitation. But it would bring him to a level of submissiveness that I doubted he had ever known. Would he seek such a thing from me? I had to wonder. It seemed unlikely.

In the end, all I had to go by was my own instincts. That was all I ever had to go by. The times when I had faltered most seriously were the times when I failed to listen to those instincts – the silent whispers of my heart. Mugen himself had confirmed the value of those silent whispers once, confessing his raw feelings to me in his vulnerable post-lovemaking moments:

"_You __**know**__ me,"_ he had murmured. _"Dunno how you do that. You know shit about me before I do."_

I had smiled and run my tongue around the rim of his ear, whispering, _"I speak fluent Mugen. Do you object?"_

"_Nnnnooooo . . . I . . . well, I mean, it kinda . . . mmmmm . . . it-it kinda pisses me off sometimes, but the rest of the time I really . . . I kinda, well . . . like it."_

As did I, for even now Mugen was something of a mystery. He was predictable in many ways and yet he could shock me with some odd twist of behavior I never saw coming, such as these furtive, deep glances and his new dangerous conduct.

That additional danger was the dark side of Mugen's new behavior. The three of us already walked a hazardous path. It was pure folly to court unnecessary peril. Even so, Mugen had ever been a catalyst for danger, his explosive nature attracting more attention than I preferred. Of late, however, his actions had become increasingly reckless. Several times I had been forced to intercede in some patch of trouble he had stirred up, usually over some ridiculous matter directly involving Mugen's undiplomatic personality.

When we were first together, growing accustomed to one another, Mugen used to round on me when I would step in and assist him. I knew him to be more than capable, as he had proven when pitted against me, but some inner imperative made me step forth and offer aid even when it was not needed. So I had learned to back off and let him fight his own battles . . . most of the time. The rest of the time I stepped in.

Now, however, he seemed to be flaunting his recklessness, daring me to, first of all, intercede, and secondly, deal with his mischief in a disciplinary manner. Perhaps his judgement was failing or his arrogance expanding. It was hard to imagine the first and sadly easy to imagine the second.

But now, considering this lunacy started immediately following his birthday spanking, there appeared to be a third variable – a new and unexpected one that seemed too impossible to be true. But I was not so arrogant as to assume that I understood all the workings of Mugen's quite changeable nature.

So I had started keeping a more watchful eye, and I had stayed alert to every silent whisper of my heart, seeking an answer. I waited and I studied him and I pondered what I knew of life and what I knew of Mugen – that is, what I knew of him thus far. Over and over I kept coming up with the same answer – the one I thought impossible, the one he seemed so anxious to earn for himself. And just when I began to think that the impossible was not so impossible after all, Mugen helped decide the matter for me with one great flamboyant shove. Typical of him.

I had seen my ferocious partner fight and win battles with several attackers at one time. The two of us had been the only ones left standing after many encounters in which we were sorely outnumbered. But I had never, ever seen Mugen, drunk, standing alone in a tavern of men, blustering and swaggering and spouting his special brand of vulgar boorishness upon them all. And few spouted vulgar boorishness as insultingly as did my Mugen.

Fortunately, he had chosen his venue well. This tavern was the closest to our home, in the business district we frequented, so folks knew us there. A friend, Suri, witnessing Mugen's actions, came running to fetch me, bringing me racing to where Mugen was seriously attempting to commit suicide by mouthiness.

Had it been any other crowd of men, or any other tavern, he likely would have achieved his goal. Fortunately, again, he had chosen to discharge his insolence over a crowd who were a bit older and less excitable and who recognized an irresponsible youth deep in his cups. Their tolerance made more sense when I noticed Soong-san sitting at a table in the back with his cronies, all of them clearly fascinated by Mugen's antics. Glancing around, I quickly recognized many others in Soong's posse, including his elite personal bodyguard. They were holding Mugen off, trying to reason with him, when I arrived.

Soong-san's largest and most intimidating protector nodded at me and asked Suri, "This is the partner you spoke of?" Suri nodded, and the man turned to me with a frown of exasperation. "Soong-san charged us to keep him from attracting the wrong kind of attention before you arrived. He's had a few too many. Take the boy home before he ends up getting hurt."

Mugen, of course, erupted.

By the time the dust in the tavern cleared several breathless men were rising from wherever they had landed, each now sporting new cuts and bruises. One man spat out a tooth. Others were panting and rubbing the places where Mugen had connected all of them shooting ferocious looks our way.

Soong-san looked splendidly entertained. He lifted his glass in salute and I nodded back and picked up my now unconscious partner. Mugen was no doubt too drunk to realize that I was the one who eventually knocked him senseless, and I doubted he would even recall that little fact later, not that I cared. I was too furious with him to feel guilty about landing the blow that took him out.

Fuu had already been asleep when Suri came running to find me, and she was sleeping still when I brought 'the boy' home slung over my shoulder. She slept soundly through almost anything. I dumped Mugen on the sheets, covered him and stretched out beside him, trying to subdue my fury. It was a long night.

In the morning Fuu merely sighed and rolled her eyes at the familiar sight of Mugen sleeping off another one. He did not rouse while we breakfasted and readied ourselves for work. Fuu kissed my cheek and allowed that she was glad she wasn't going to be around when he came to, then she scooted out. I followed soon after.

Soong-ojiisan is wise and clever and observant. We had been working for only half an hour before he stopped his narrative and asked what was troubling me. I did not bother with pretense. I told him what had happened the night before, and when he kept gazing at me expectantly I found myself telling him everything else, from the birthday spanking to Mugen's subsequent few weeks of escalating bizarre behavior to my suspicions about what he might be seeking from me. I felt my face warming when I reached the end of my tale and confessed my conclusions, though it seemed fairly obvious – Mugen was trying to get me to spank him again.

"But that cannot be," I said quietly, shaking my head. "That simply cannot be possible."

"Why not?"

I shot him a look. Ojiisan watched me, rapt and intense. "Why can it not be possible that this is what Mugen seeks from you?"

"It is most unlike him. He . . . ." And yet, as I sat struggling to explain why this could not be I realized that anything was possible when it came to Mugen.

"He is testing you of course. Why are you hesitating to answer him?"

A shiver slid up my spine, that inner whisper saying, _'Yes, why?'_ But I continued to study this wise old man, suddenly feeling rather stupid and completely without a response.

Casting me a long gaze, Soong-ojiisan said, "I once knew one like your Mugen. He and I were close as I sense the two of you are close. You and I are both men of the world, Jin, with a particular level of sophistication. You know the closeness of which I speak. This took place in my youthful days, when I was a soldier. My partner and I were in the same regiment. Of course, I did not choose to mention our relationship in my memoirs. This part of my past is a private memory.

"My beloved began to conduct himself as your Mugen is now. He became wild and needlessly combative, dangerously careless. It seemed that he was seeking from me what I think we both sense Mugen is seeking from you. He clearly wanted my attention, and he was asking to be shown that attention in a certain manner."

Ojiisan paused and gazed off for a moment, going somewhere else, seeing another time, another place and a certain person. I waited silently, then he continued in a faraway tone: "I believe there was within him a profound hunger, a desire to be shown his worth so that he would know that I cared about his well-being, even unto the point of disciplining him for reckless misbehavior. But, like you, I could scarce believe that this was indeed what he wanted. He was an adult. We were lovers, equals. How could he want such a thing from me? It simply could not be possible."

I heard my words echo in his. And again he went silent. I sat quietly, hesitating to ask my next burning question, but eager to know. Finally I said, "So did you . . . did you discipline him in this manner?"

A shadow of sorrow passed over his eyes. "I never got the chance to do so. I hesitated, as you are hesitating now. He was killed in a tavern fight."

My heart lurched. A hot blast shot through me and my stomach clenched and I felt my face drain of color. "Oh," I finally managed to murmur. "I am sorry, Ojiisan."

"Do not be sorry, Jin," he told me, a deep, lingering hurt filling his gaze. "Learn. Do not make my mistake. If you do, you could spend a lifetime as I have done, carrying a painful shard of regret deep within you. I was uncertain, as you are now, and I was too late. I could do nothing to change the past. But you . . . ." He studied me intensely, a sheen of tears glistening in his eyes. "Trust your instincts, young one. Go home. Now. And do for Mugen what you long to do. You and I both know that he longs for it as well."

I made it home fast. I actually ran the last few blocks, suddenly desperate to see him safe there on our bed, tangled in the sheets. And there he was, sleeping and rumpled and smelly with drink and sweat and dirt and the scent of a very messy Mugen. I stood for a moment, just drinking in the sight of him, reassuring myself as to his presence. He looked endearingly helpless, so little boy-like when sleeping that it was hard to imagine the dreadful brat he could be when awake.

I gazed at my brat, ojiisan's tale flowing over me once more, the plaintive tone of his voice, the obvious pain in his soul, the sorrow he still carried in his eyes even all these years later. One thought haunted me, killing any last shred of doubt: I could have lost Mugen last night. If that crowd of men been hostile . . . if he had chosen to play out his tantrum in some other tavern . . . a tavern too far away for me to reach in time . . . .

I yanked the sheets from him and barked, "Wake up!"

He jerked and snuffled and reached for the sheets again. "Uuuuuh."

"Time to rise, Mugen," I ordered.

"Fuggoff."

Summoning patience, I quieted my fury, which would serve us both ill, and I reached down and yanked my foul-smelling partner from the futon and stood him before me.

Immediately he squared off, struggling and sputtering more insulting slurs. But Mugen was well off his game. He was clearly suffering from a painful head and a roiling stomach and he had little reserves with which to fight me. Good. Fine. Just the way I wanted him.

"Look at me, Mugen," I said in a stern tone, and when he predictably tried to struggle anew I gave him a shake that made him pale and appear immediately sick. I dragged him outside to let him empty his stomach. Little demon tried to keep me in his aim, but he was too sluggish and I was too fast. I did, however, give him something for his efforts.

I spun him around and swatted his backside so powerfully he froze, seconds from vomiting, and turned a suddenly alert stare upon me. "Do not dare sully me with the leavings of last night's tantrum, little boy," I said; then I forced him over and let him have at it.

Oh, he understood me. A sudden spark lit up his glassy eyes as I bent him over, and within that glance I found my answer. My doubts fled.

I would never question what Mugen wanted or needed from me, once I had discovered what that want or need was. There was no 'rightness' or 'wrongness' to a person's deepest most secretive desires. There was only the need, and there was, hopefully, an answer to that need. I had every intention of seeing Mugen's need fully answered, now and for as many times as he desired. Ah, bless that silent whisper of my heart! And blessed ojiisan!

Mugen's struggles all but ceased as I put him through the next half-hour of necessary deeds. I dressed him and marched him to the bathhouse, for I would deal with him no further until he was clean. Luckily the bath house was nearly empty at mid-morning, so he could get away with his childish sulkiness sans interested onlookers and I could seriously threaten to come in the water and bathe him myself did he not do a proper job, making the threat as many times as he needed me to, and that was often.

I found his behavior riveting. He backed down time and time again, each time confirming my decision. He did, however, for lack of a better word, 'fuss.' Understandable. He would not be Mugen without putting up some kind of fight, even a half-hearted one. I withstood his petulance to a certain degree, but when he would became more difficult than I chose to endure I would grab his upper arms or place my hand under his jaw and force him to look at me, telling him to, _"Stop that at once."_ And he would do so. His eyes filled with momentary rebellion, but it was outvoted by an underlying raw hunger that was almost embarrassing to look at.

His level of trust astonished me. It was plain to me that Mugen indeed wanted this badly. And it was just as plain that he had no idea what was going on inside him. He frequently shot me a look that said, _'I hope you know what you're doing, Jin, because I'm totally lost.' _

But it was all right that he was lost, for I was not. For the first time since all this began I was no longer questioning myself or the silent whisper of my heart. So when Mugen gave me that bewildered look, I answered him with my own silent reply, _'I know exactly what I am doing, little boy. I am not lost. I know the way home.'_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I was going nuts. For weeks I'd been going slowly nuts. Ever since that fucking birthday spanking my world had been spinning in confusing circles. And it really sucked.

Seemed like I was pissed a lot and I didn't know why. But I was spoiling for a fight at every turn. My gang of Mugen wannabes watched me warily, like at any second I was gonna turn on them and lop off a head just for kicks or something. I noticed and I didn't give a fuck what they thought, 'cept it was kinda fun scaring the shit outa them with nothin' but my mood.

Lucky for me I was a popular mercenary by now. I took every job I smelled out that involved a lotta loud messy violence. I had a knack for loud and messy. Suited my purpose, so I did whatever was needed and I did it damned well. Still, this pain-in-the-ass fire burned inside me. I couldn't shake it or get away from it or beat it into submission and I sure as hell it couldn't figure out what the fuck was going on.

And I kept remembering what that spanking was like. I remembered every detail and feeling . . . Jin's hard thighs under my belly, his arm over my lower back, his hand curled 'round my hip, hugging me close to him, and that big palm of his spanking me again and again and again. And I remembered my hot burning ass and how hard I got, and I'd get hard all over again just thinking about Jin swatting me over and over and . . . .

I was going fucking nuts.

Jin, meanwhile, kept watching me like I was something crawling on the floor that needed to be squished. I felt his eyes on me when he thought I wasn't looking. But, hell, he had to know by now that I was always aware of where his eyes were, 'specially when they were on me. I wondered what the fuck he was staring at, but damned if I'd give him the satisfaction of knowing that I cared. And I sure as hell wasn't about to tell him what the problem was.

Like I knew? Even if I'd wanted to tell Jin what was going on, I couldn't. Maybe if he got a clue about what was up with Mugen he'd be big enough to share it with me.

Meanwhile I just kept watching myself being a total asshole. At the prison they'd labeled me as having 'hostile tendencies,' which I always thought was cool, but lately it was like a cork had popped and all this moody stuff came rushing out.

Then the really bad stuff started. I started getting that eerie, panicky feeling I get when I'm scared about losing something or someone. I hate that fucking feeling! It's why I never liked getting attached to anything or anyone for too long, before Jin, that is. Sooner or later they're gonna be history and I don't want to lose a piece of my heart the way I do when that happens.

So that eerie panic started haunting me, and, fuck, then I was reeeally on edge. That's the worst feeling – like something has you by the balls and it might start squeezing any second. When it's happened in the past I do whatever I have to get away from it. Usually I've pushed and pushed and pushed until something gives and I force the loss and I'm free again. Makes all the difference if I'm the one forcing that loss. It becomes my doing then, my choice. I control it. So pushing and pushing usually worked.

But this time . . . this time Jin was the loss, and losing Jin . . . I couldn't even think about it.

So whatever was eating at me just kept eating at me and I went on feeling restless and mad. My twosome suffered, Fuu getting more and more snippy with me and steering clear and Jin hiding inside that cool warrior's tolerance I've never been able to breech. Pissed me off he could go there and leave me out here all growling and lost. Made me want to either kick his ass or fuck him into next week, anything to drag him out into the open.

That was the worse thing, of course, because my inner war even crept into bed with us. Fuu was easy. She reached a place of such built up piss-offedness with me that she stopped wanting to fool around. Fine. Let her play with herself. Or let her snuggly up with Jin after I left for the night. I knew they were doing that. No skin off my nose.

Because Jin and me, we still fucked. 'Course we fucked. But we just fucked. It was a function, and it served its purpose. We both got off. No biggie. Actually, it was totally horrible in a way I couldn't begin to describe, cold and empty and horrible. We both knew it, but since fixing it meant I'd have to start talking, and since I couldn't seem to do that, it just kept bein' what it was and what it was sucked.

So my eerie panic grew and my mood got worse.

Finally a few nights back, Fuu – shy, sweet, well-bred little kitten she is – looks at me when I was being my usual snarly self over dinner, and she hurls her spoon down and says in her shy, sweet, well-bred kitten-ish purr, _"Just what the bloody fucking hell is going on with you, Mugen? You've been a fucking pain in the fucking ass for fucking ever now!"_

Jin's eyebrows rose and he turned a slow look on her steaming self. _"Fuu-chan,"_ he murmurs with pure Jin calmness, _"such vulgar language is unnecessary."_

"_I don't fucking care!"_ she squawked on. _"I'm fucking tired of his fucking grumpiness! Aren't you? It's going on all the fucking time! And I've had enough of it!" _

This was great. I watched with interest.

"_I understand your frustration,"_ Jin replied, totally dignified. _"But such profanity will not alter Mugen's attitude. And I find it objectionable. So please govern your tongue, little miss. Your mouth is much too pretty to house such obscenity."_

Of course she quieted. 'Little miss' even flashed him a shy, cutesy grin. Oh, for the luvva - yeah, yeah, yeah. Totally Jin tactics. Then he shoots me this scowl that sent a chill through me. I nearly threw my bowl of soup at him. He saw me thinking it over and, of course, he saw me grab my bowl.

So he gave his head this slight shake. _"No,"_ he said that whispery voice of his that sent shivers through me. _"Do not dare."_

Ohhh, ho, hooo how I longed to dare! Just why the fuck I didn't dare I have no idea. Instead I jumped up and stormed out, slamming the door on my way. And when I returned yesterday morning, a few hours before dawn, and collapsed beside him, exhausted and filthy from a rough night, something I knew Jin would hate, he pulled me close and spooned up behind me anyway. I swear, I got teary, damn him.

When I got up later, something finally snapped. Fuu and Jin were at work and I found some food set out, and there, at my place round the table, was this pretty red flower, one of the ones from Fuu's little garden out back. Shit, I dunno what happened, but seeing that flower waiting there for me when I'd been such a prick for weeks now, I dunno, my tether just fucking snapped.

I stormed out and blasted over to the closest tavern, the one in our nearby merchant district, and I began to drink. And I drank and I drank and I drank and I drank some more and soon stuff began to a blur real nicely. Time started doing that weird shifting thing off and on . . . a familiar face drifted in now and then, coming and going, in and out . . . and I kept drinking. Soon early evening shadows drifted through the open door and the light went all hazy. 'Dusk' Fuu called it. And Jin, 'course he had a prettier name for it:

"Twilight. The time when the veil between the worlds trembles and benevolent spirits slip through to guide our paths into the night."

He was full of pretty bullshit like that.

A few of my compadres came looking for me after dark, not that I cared, but it led to more drinking and soon we had a lil' contest going – who knew the most vulgar, bawdy songs? I was winning nicely when, for some reason, our singing stirred up a few objections from the other patrons. Perfect. Time to kick some ass just for the fun of it!

But a few really big guys, acting like total daddies, decided to step in and tell me to behave myself and that I'd had enough and I should call it a night, all stuff you tell an obnoxious drunk, which I was – no question. But I still wasn't about to be daddied by these guys. I decided to show them who they were dealing with.

Things really became a blur then. But I remember standing there insulting the daddies, their ancestors and basically everything and anything about them, finishing up by inviting all comers – I'd take everyone on!

Suddenly Jin was in the doorway, watching me. Holy shit but the man was fucking beautiful! He was also fucking furious in that cold Jin way. And then – and this I remember perfectly – the biggest daddy said, _"Soong-san charged us to keep him from attracting the wrong kind of attention before you arrived. He's had a few too many. Take the boy home before he ends up getting hurt." _

The _boy?_ Well, what else could I do? I launched myself at biggest daddy and then a terrific fight took place. It was great until some bastard managed to sneak up on me and knock me out.

Next thing I knew I was being ordered awake by a pushy, stern and totally bossy Jin. It was mid-morning; I was home; my head pounded; my stomach rolled and I wanted to die. I therefore politely declined Jin's invitation to rise.

Yanking a person from his bed when he obviously has the mother of all hangovers is harsh, but shaking him is just plain evil. Jin did both, then he hauled me outside to let me puke, and when I went for some payback by trying to paint him with the contents of my stomach he turned me around and swatted me so hard I swear my ass saw stars.

Ohmyfuckinggod. I almost forgot to hurl. Almost. I swear I would've gotten hard if I wasn't so busy puking.

Jin then put me through the waking-up routine from Hell. He dragged me to the bathhouse, spewing more bossiness, then marched my newly clean self home and sat me down in front of a bowl full of some blechy-looking morning gruel. _"Eat that, little boy,"_ he'd said to my defiant frown.

'Little boy?' What the fuck was this 'little boy' stuff? And what the fuck was with the rest of his authoritative crap? I went back and forth between getting really turned on and really pissed. Some of both won out, but the really turned on part bothered me. Meanwhile, Jin's bossiness kept hitting new heights:

"_No, you shall not throw it at me." " Stop glaring at it. Eat it." "I am going to count to three -"_

"_God dammit! Don't you dare fucking count!"_

"_Eat it."_

"_It looks blechy."_

"_One."_

"_Jin!"_

"_Two. Thr – good. Very good."_

"_Not good. It's gross."_

"_Eat it."_

I think I was too blown away to do anything but what he told me to. Not only was I going along with it, but . . . well, I was even kinda, _kinda_ okay with it. Prolly my weakened state softening my brain. But this pushy, stern and totally bossy Jin was hot. God I wished I could deny that! But I, kinda, _kinda_ liked his pushiness. At least I thought I liked it. I wasn't sure. I either wanted to fuck his brains out or punch his teeth in.

I couldn't figure anything out, so I just switched over to instinct and floated. He was right, of course, bastard. Eating his swill actually made my touchy belly feel much better. Trust the son of a bitch to know his stuff.

To be honest, I was feeling better and more like my old self and more, well . . . _okay_ than I had in weeks, ever since that birthday spanking screwed with my head. Damned if I'd ever let him do that to me again!

Come to think of it, though, all morning he'd been talking the way he had when he was spanking me, using that same 'little boy speak' that slithered under my skin and made me squirm, but felt really good in some warm and gushy way that made me wanna gag. In fact . . . it suddenly hit me that hearing him talk like that had helped calm me, making me feel better than I had in weeks . . . .

Aw, shit no. No, no, noooo! Nope. No, goddammit! I wasn't buying it.

Tough shit, though, because I knew in the deepest part of me, that part where lying to myself wasn't an option, that it was true all right. Hell, yeah it was true. I craved those words and what he was saying. I liked it. I fucking liked it.

No. No, I fucking hated it! I had to hate it! But . . . nononooo . . . I-I liked it. I did.

So now my stomach was full and I felt clean and better and my head wasn't pounding anymore, thanks to the bitter concoction he'd forced down my throat after I'd puked my guts up. I sat waiting to see what Jin had planned next. He looked relaxed. That should have been a warning. But I really didn't see it coming.

He lunged, dragged me to the futon, tossed me over his lap and locked me down so tightly there was no breaking free. Took him, I swear, seconds. I was dizzy, he moved so fast. So now I was turned over his left knee, his right leg clamped over my thighs, my ass at the perfect tipped-up position and my chest resting on the bedding, my face in the sheets, just like before, with one big difference.

This time Jin stretched out over my back, pinning me, one arm pressing my shoulders down and his other big hand holding my wrists at the small of my back so tightly it hurt. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! Totally new set of rules here! I'd stayed over Jin's knee during my birthday spanking because I wanted to. It had been my choice. My consent. This time –

I tried to struggle. No movement. Pissed, I used all my strength, trying to buck him off, wriggle free. I couldn't move. Not one bit. Couldn't kick, couldn't move, nuthin'! Shit, shit, shit! My stomach tightened.

"Jin! Lemme up you sonnofabitch!"

Like I expected him to say, _'Oh, right, Mugen, sorry. My mistake,'_ and let me up? He didn't. Instead he said exactly nothin' and his silence was hugely loud and had a menacing feel to it. I felt myself breathing heavy, scared breathing, attack-mode breathing.

But . . . but, no . . . no. Calm down, Mugen. This was Jin, _my_ Jin. I wasn't scared of my Jin. I was feeling pretty fuckin' scared about what he was about to do, though. Because this wasn't gonna be no fun lil' birthday spanking. Jin was making that real clear before he even started. So I was suddenly, seriously fuckin' scared for my vulnerable ass, which he had somehow managed to strip bare when locking me down. The cool air on my backside made my skin prickle and flinch and I felt so damn naked and exposed, just like before. But, shit! This wasn't just like before! Oh god ,oh god, oh god! I heard myself babbling:

"C'mon, Jin, lemme up, okay? I get it. I fucked up. I was stupid. You want me to say I'm sorry? Okay, okay, I'm sorry! All right?"

"Such sincerity, Mugen. I am overwhelmed."

"Right, okay, well, well look, I really am sorry. I was an asshole, okay? I was. I admit it. Okay, Jin?"

"Yes."

"So lemme up. We'll talk about it."

"No. We'll talk, yes, but you shall stay right where you are."

I panicked and jerked and bucked some more, tried to that is. Couldn't move a muscle. I gasped into the sheets. Don't panic, Mugen! Don't, don't don't. And, of course, I did.

"Gerrof me you bastard!"

Silence. I called him a string of filthy names. More blaring Jin silence. So I lay there, huffing, wondering what to do now. I felt totally helpless. Jin's warm weight covered me, pressing down on my back, his hair tickled my neck, and his breathing, steady and calm and quiet warmed my skin. Kinda nice, despite my position . . . .

But, what the fuck? Why wasn't he spanking me? Not that I was exactly eager to feel what that was gonna feel like, but at least it would've moved things along. Waiting like this was a bitch. Was he just gonna hold me down like this? What the hell was he doing? Couldn't hurt to ask.

"Jin, what the hell are you doing?"

The man actually chuckled! "I should think my intent would be fairly obvious."

"Y-You're gonna . . . ." I swallowed hard. "You're gonna sp -"

"Oh, yes. I am indeed going to spank you, little boy."

I growled, tried to squirm again, failed again and felt a flash of panic again. "Y-You can't!"

"'Can't'?"

"You can't just do that!"

"It seems I am."

"Whyyyyyyy?" Uh-oh. Stupid, Mugen. Dumb, dumb question.

"Why?"

It was that icy Jin tone that sends shivers up my spine, and I was in a very bad position to be feeling that. "I-I mean, I know why . . . I mean I think I know why -"

"You _think_ you know why?"

"Okay, okay! I sorta do know why."

"Sor -"

"You're mad at me for what happened in the tavern!" I hurried on, eager to halt his parroting of every incredibly wrong thing coming out of my mouth.

"No."

What? I sensed a trap. "Sure you are."

"No."

I thought about this. Nope. Made no sense. "You're not mad at me because of the tavern?"

"I am not angry with you at all, Mugen."

Okay, now he was just jerking me around, the son of a bitch. _I_ got mad! I tried again to buck, failed, then growled and spat out, "You are, too, you motherfucking liar!" I yelled, hoping to stir him up.

He just sighed and said in a scolding tone, "It would be wise of you to consider your position before using such foul language. Now settle down."

"Oh, right! Settle down. Sure. Why not?" I sneered. "Like I can settle down when you've got me pinned like this?"

"It does present a challenge. But you had best try. I plan to keep you where you are until you stop fussing."

Fussing. Where did he get this bunch of kid words? Shit but they made me squirm. I let go a growling-snarling sound and again tried to wrench around and again couldn't. It was stupid of me to keep trying. I knew that. But I had to try, and every time I did I came smack up against my helplessness. It didn't help none, him talking that 'little boy speak' at me. I decided to answer him in a grown-up manner:

"I don't wanna settle down!"

"Then we shall be here for a long time."

This was familiar territory for us – a battle of wills. Fine. He wouldn't win.

So we waited and waited and waited and waited. Finally, hours later . . . it had to be hours later . . . he said, "Mugen, aren't you curious as to why I'm not spanking you?"

"'Course!" I shot back, steaming by now. "But I already asked you -"

"No, you did not. You asked me what I was doing."

Oh. Hmm. "Okay, so why aren't you spanking me yet?" And shit, did that ever sound idiotic coming outa my mouth!

"I cannot spank you until you settle down, truly settle down, not just in word, but in deed."

"Well, well. What a vicious circle," I snapped. "Sounds like we have a standoff, partner. What else is new?"

He sniffed a little chuckle, "You certainly are insolent, given your position."

"Yeah, well. I never know what's good for me."

"Well spoken." I could just _see_ him nod. "Mugen, you gave your consent for your birthday spanking, remember? I need your consent now as well, little boy, and not just a passing consent in order to get the deed over and done with. I require your full and wholehearted consent."

I listened, drop-jawed. "You mean I'm supposed to – to _ask_ for it?"

"No. I don't expect that of you. But you need to agree."

I couldn't believe this! "Anything else, sir? I mean, should I go down on my knees and beg you to – OW!" He'd shot up swatted my ass hard, then clamped down on me again before I taken my next breath. Sneaky bastard.

"Don't you see, Mugen?" he said in a quiet voice. "You must grant your consent. I cannot force this upon you. And I wouldn't want to."

He was right. If he wasn't holding me down, I'd be able to break free. He'd never be able to hold me securely and spank me at the same time. 'Course he needed my consent.

Shit! Shit! Shit! This was so fucked! I didn't want to have to ask for a spanking. The idea of having to ask – blecchh! I wanted to be forced! I didn't want to have to agree to this. I didn't want this to be my decision. I wanted Jin to hold me down and make me take a spanking!

"Mugen."

Okay. That was it. Now I really had gone nuts. What the hell was I thinking? I wanted him to force me? Like I was a little kid who couldn't get away? That's what I wanted?

"Mugen."

Yep, that was what I wanted. I wanted Jin to force me . . . . Oh god. That couldn't be. That just couldn't be. I couldn't want that! What kind of sicko was I? I just lay there, huffing, hating this whole thing, hating that I had to be the one who – "OW!"

"Mugen."

He'd done it again! Another attack wallop, sneaky bastard. "What?" I bellowed.

"I am waiting."

"Oh, 'scuse me for keeping you, sir. But this isn't all that easy -"

"Yes, it is. It is very simple, little one."

"Don't call me thaaaaaat!"

"Shhh, settle down. Your decision is, indeed, quite simple," he went on. "You either agree to this, or you do not."

Simple. Right. I blinked and gasped. I didn't want to listen. I didn't want to be here. And I didn't want to be anywhere else.

"Shhh, there, there," he purred on. "Mugen, hush now. Don't be afraid. You do not need to know anything or understand anything. All you have to do is consent. And if you cannot do that, I shall release you, and you can go and do as you will."

Release me? My throat went tight and sore. I felt something hot and burning behind my eyes. Fuck, those were tears! But, oh god, oh god. I couldn't help it. Release me? Last time I'd felt this shitty emptiness was right before my birthday spanking when he'd offered the same thing – he'd let me go if I really didn't want to let him to spank me. It stung bad then, but it hurt worse hearing him say it now. Didn't he . . . care?

I suddenly went all cold and lonely inside. I remembered the feeling. It was how I always felt before linking up with Jin and that cute little bitch of a female. I hadn't felt this for a long time, but it was a feeling you never forgot. I think I was pretty close to hurling that swill he made me eat.

And suddenly I-I couldn't stop shaking. I buried my hot face in the sheets, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. Scared. I was fucking scared. And of course I knew how to answer him. There was only one answer. Some things were worse than a sore ass and a little loss of dignity. A whole lot worse.

"Jin," I muttered, my throat so tight it hurt, "p-p-please don't . . . don't release me." It was all I could croak.

"Shhhh," he whispered into my ear. "No, little boy, I shall not. You answered me very well. Perfectly. And I hear you. I speak fluent Mugen, remember? And I am proud of you."

A huge wave of relief hit me so fast I heard myself gulp back what sounded like a whimper. He kissed my ear and sat up and started moving me around. He let my wrists go and he lifted my legs up over his lap so I was stretched out flat, then he pulled me closer, dragging my clothes off below the waist, and all the while he kept murmuring these little 'shhh'- like sounds that slithered under my skin right alongside that little boy speak. It should've made me cringe. But, damn how I was lovin' it! "Hush now." "No more fussing." "Leave this to me." "It's no longer in your hands." "No more worries, little boy." "I am proud of you."

How could just hearing Jin say he was proud of me melt me into a puddle? I was even getting used to him calling me 'little boy,' though it fucked with my dignity. I had a feeling my dignity was about to take a helluva blow anyway. I was still kinda scared, but this was totally different than it had been two seconds earlier. I was scared for my ass now. I had the feeling Jin was about to spank the shit outa me.

But that 'getting spanked scared' wasn't nothin' compared to the scared of being turned from his lap, set loose, alone. That was the most horrible scared there could be. Instead, Jin was turning me inside out again with his words, calling me 'good boy' and making me think I'd seriously popped my cork for loving that so. And he was preparing me, giving my ass a few little pats like he was getting it ready to be walloped, I suppose. My stomach fluttered, and I couldn't help tensing all over. Shit, shit, shit! Another Jin spanking!

But that was okay. It really was okay. Bring it on. And it didn't even matter anymore that I had no fucking idea what the hell was making me act like such an asshole. It seemed damned plain that Jin understood it all just fine. And he was sure gonna explain stuff to me, all over my 'pretty little bottom.'

I braced myself. I felt him raise his hand. I squeezed the sheets into my fists. And then Jin's first swat fell.

Holy shit! OW! I didn't yell it. I almost did. I wanted to. I even thought that maybe I'd let that 'ow' slip. I didn't, though. Score one for Mugen.

But then Jin's next spank fell, and the next, and the next and the next. Each one stung like hell and then another just like it would fall, and another and another. My ass heated up fast and started to burn, each spank falling on an already fiery spot. And before long there were no non-fiery spots! I must've been out of my mind sayin' yes to this!

This was bad. This was very, very bad! Jin kept spanking and spanking, silently swatting, and I lay there, gasping into the sheets, a million thoughts zinging through my head – it couldn't hurt this much. It couldn't! Was I such a softie that I couldn't take a little spanking? Maybe since I had a small ass, not much there, not a nice, pillowy little bubble butt like Fu – ow ow oww!

Okay, don't panic, Mugen, don't panic, don't, do not panic! Don't think about it! Think about something else . . . uhhh . . . wonder what kind of day Fuu was having. Wonder what was for supper. Wonder what this spanking fiend was doing home in the middle of the day. Wonder –

"Mugen," the spanking fiend said, all casual and easy-like. "Your first lesson in spanking decorum: Wandering off in your thoughts is not permitted. Your attention is required at all times, here, with me. When I sense you are trying to escape by thinking yourself elsewhere, as you are now, we shall have a little talk. We have much ground to cover, little one. And your pretty bottom is becoming red and warm, perfect for a nice civil conversation. Your behavior has been exemplary thus far, but I fear that will not last much longer, so this is a fine time to begin addressing our issues. And I am proud of you. Good boy."

Fucking fiend.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mugen really did have a lot of stamina, and I was indeed quite proud of him. We had gone over several key points of good spanking decorum when he finally lost all control, cursed me out and threw his hand back, palm up over his bottom in a desperate attempt to stop the next spank from descending.

"STOPPIT!" he wailed.

I did, just long enough to grab his wrist and secure it at the small of his back before continuing. He didn't challenge me further when I picked up where I had left off, other than to wail a hearty: "AAAHHHHHHH!"

"Enough of that impertinence," I said. "It is not for you to decide when your spanking is over, little boy."

Aside from some hearty kicking and wriggling about, he had, until now, been fairly well-behaved. I had spanked him silently for a while, letting him imagine what he looked like stretched over my lap, his bare bottom under my hand, letting him feel his spanking with no distractions before we got down to business. Of course, regardless of how willingly he had accepted this, Mugen was still his stubborn bratty self. Oh, he was resisting me. He was gasping and writhing and huffing short explosions of breath and tensing his legs, then kicking them straight, and yet, no tears. He had released only one genuine whimper, right at the time of his agreement.

So he was far from surrender, despite his clearly sore bottom. But he was so close, so very close to tears. I could feel it. The issues we had to go over would surely help him let go. So his timing was good. I was ready to attack the heart of the matter, and this would be especially difficult for Mugen. Good time to begin some honest protestations.

Mugen's instincts were well-honed. He lived on them, wasting little time on deep introspection. So he had been at a loss as to how to understand what had been happening to him since his birthday spanking. No matter. I did understand it. To my slight shame, I found his lack of self-awareness endearing. I was embarrassed to feel so delighted in being able to offer him something he had been unable to achieve on his own. It somehow felt unseemly. Nevertheless, enjoy it I did.

My own disbelief in what I had been seeing had caused Mugen several weeks of confusion. I regretted that, for I would not willingly have caused him pain. But that time had served a useful purpose for him. It had made Mugen eager for . . . something. What, he did not know. An answer. _ Why am I behaving like a lunatic, Jin? _Ah, but he could break my heart.

So, his two weeks of confusion had made him desperate and a desperate little boy listens better than does a belligerent little boy. He was, however, still amusingly mouthy.

"Ar-Are you going to s-spank me for the rest of my f-fuckin' l-life?"

"Most likely, as it seems to be doing nothing to curb your attitude."

"Jin! P-Pleease!"

"You would like to talk, yes?"

"A'course, goddammmit!"

I 'tsked.' "Such incredible impudence. Is it wise to use such language when you are over my knee, your pretty bottom on fire, little brat?"

"D-Don't call me thaaaaaat!"

"I think I shall."

"Nooooooooo!"

"It fits you."

He kicked furiously for a full minute. I wondered where he was getting his energy. But, of course, it was pure stubbornness driving him, for he had to be growing weary. I spanked him silently a little longer, then said, "Would you like to ask something of me?"

"Uh huhhhhh! Pl-Pleease!"

"Go on."

"Can we t-talk?"

"Of course. What shall we talk about?"

"Jin!"

"Perhaps we should discuss your excessive bratiness ever since your birthday, or perhaps I should say, ever since you birthday spanking." He buried his face in the crook of his elbow and moaned long and low.

"Jin, I dunno why . . . d-dunno why . . . been such a prick!"

I chuckled at his language. So naturally crude, my boy. "You have indeed been a prick, sir, and when Fuu comes home tonight, you shall apologize to her for what you have been putting her through." I gave him an especially hard whack, making him arch and yelp. "Is that understood?"

"Uh huh! Y-Yeah! 'Pol'gize! Yeah, J-Jin! G-Good idea!"

"I am so glad you agree," I said, slowing my spanks a little. The tremor in his voice was watery and weak – he was so very close to tears now. Time to make my points.

"Mugen, do you recall the time we saw those boys climbing on the rooftops?"

He thought for a moment, probably confused as to what I was doing, but he warmed my heart by trustingly nodding and muttering, "Uh-huuuh."

"They were quickly spotted, of course, and they drew a crowd. Their families below were frantic, remember?"

"Uh-huhhhh."

"Their fathers went up to bring them down."

He nodded. "B-Bad, bad, n-naughty little boys!"

I grinned. "Naughty little boys indeed! And I vow they were soon red-bottomed naughty little boys." I paused before delivering my next spank. He grunted and jerked and waited respectfully – ahh, very good. "A question, sir – why did those boys choose to climb the rooftops in their own neighborhood where they would be quickly seen? Why not run off to some quiet part of town where they could climb all the rooftops they desired without the threat of being caught?"

I paused again, resting my palm on his hot bottom. Meanwhile, Mugen seemed to be holding his breath, shocky with sudden comprehension. My boy was quick. He would indeed know where I was going. But he needed to go there himself. I would not do this for him. I would only guide him so far. He needed to make that last leap. I waited.

"T-They din't care 'bout climbing – they was t-trying to get at-attention."

"Very good, little boy!"

A pause, then: "Jiiiinn?"

"Yes?"

"I-I-I wanted a d-drink fast! W-Wanted a t-tavern close-by! C-Close to our house!"

"Of course you did, little boy. And what else did you want?"

He choked out a sputtery-coughing sound, the sound of someone trying to hold back an inner flood. I had compassion for his struggle, but Mugen was indeed going to release that flood. He trusted me with his tears. He had done so before. So there was naught to fear and he knew that. My poor lover was simply fighting some dark inner force that wouldn't allow him to admit the truth.

But I would have none of that. No dark inner force would keep Mugen from me, locked in with his loneliness and his confusion, his guilt and his fears. We had the big truths to face now, so, willing him to withstand a bit more, I started spanking again. After a break, even a short one, it would feel fairly horrible. Mugen cried out and arched up with a wail.

"Answer me, little boy. I am going nowhere and neither are you. So 'tis best you -"

"I-I wanted to get your 'ten-tention!" he shot back.

Ah! Breakthrough number one. "Well you certainly did get my attention, sir," I said, spanking steadily despite his frantic little gasps and yelps. "You had been trying to get my attention for some time, hadn't you?"

I was sure Mugen hadn't yet considered that as a reason behind his bizarre behavior. But he thought about it now, out loud. I listened, fascinated.

"NO! No, I-I weren't trying to g-get your atten . . . well . . . w-well, may-maybe I-I . . . o-okay, mayb-be I w-was . . . a little b-bit . . . just a little . . .okay, I g-guess I was. Yeah, I-I was, okay?"

His upset now shifted from confusion to embarrassment and he let fly another round of 'sorries.' Time for some comfort: "Mugen," I said in a quiet voice. "There is nothing 'wrong' with wanting my attention. I am happy to give it to you, for you are deserving of it, little boy."

He gasped, tensing, so close to tears. Of course he could say nothing to this, though, so I pushed on.

"But you do not need to risk your foolish neck in order to gain my attention. You attract enough trouble without going to extremes, my boy. You know full well the difference between the kind of danger that is an unavoidable part of your life, and the kind that is an unnecessary risk. For instance -" I raised my knee, tipping his bottom up so that I could spank the tender undercurve of his cheeks. Mugen howled and kicked and squirmed anew:

"AAAHHHH! STOP! STOP! S-STOP! OWWW! Ow!Ow!Owww! N-Not therrrre!"

"For instance, standing up, drunk, in a tavern of men you have just insulted and offering to take on all comers constitutes what kind of risk little boy? Acceptable or unacceptable?"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

"Excuse me?"

"AAAHHHHHHH! JIN! STOPPPITTT!"

"Try again."

"Un! Un! Un! Un'ceptib-ble!"

I lowered my leg and went back to spanking his very red bottom – not much of an improvement for poor Mugen at this stage. "Indeed it is, sir, and should I ever find you doing such a thing again, I shall take you over my knee and give you a spanking that will make this one seem like a slight warm-up. Do you understand?"

"Uhh-hhuhh! Y-Yes, J-Jin! Sorry, sorry! S-Sooo sorry!"

If I had felt the slightest sense that Mugen's distress was anything but physical, I would have stopped at once. But I knew him, and I knew that, behind his outer dismay was a secretly comfortable Mugen. He would have been fighting me otherwise. He could have easily fought his way off my lap.

But, although Mugen was battling himself on many levels, he was not the least bit inclined to fight me. He had already realized deep inside how much he wanted this. He had invited it, and it had needed to be that way. I would not, and could not force myself upon him in this manner. Now we understood each other, though. His predilection had been voiced, and it would stand. He'd had the courage to do that, so I would never again demand he give that consent.

So I pressed on, knowing exactly what he needed, and feeling quite satisfied to be able to give him what he desired. The added bonus was that I desired it as well.

We were actually nearly done. He seemed more than ready. He lay trembling and listening, releasing small whimpers. _Not yet, not quite yet, little boy. Hold on. We have a bit more to do. _

"I know you are sorry, beloved," I said in a gentle tone. "So let us return to the beginning. Once more, why I am spanking you?"

He groaned and heaved an exhausted sigh. "You're m-mad at m-me 'bout the tavern and the f-fight, even though I-I said s-sorrryyy!"

"No. I told you. I am not angry with you."

"But-But-But -"

"Yes, you said you were sorry, over and over you have said it. But you just s_aid_ it, Mugen. You said what you felt was expected of you. There was no meaning behind it, no repentance, just an empty gesture. Tomorrow there might be another tavern and another night when you feel like challenging the world, and I might not be there to -"

I paused to govern my anger. It had no place here, not with him over my knee. I took a breath and began again. "I am not upset with _you_, Mugen. I am upset by what you _did_, not with you. Never with you."

He gasped and froze, clearly stunned, thinking that over. I pressed on swiftly:

"I am spanking you because I care about you . . . no, because I love you. I repeat, you are worthy of my attention, little boy. You do not have to seek it. It is always, always yours. I shall not lose you to your wild temper and foolish recklessness. This -" I swatted him hard and watched him arch and wail. " – is yours any time you need it, because you deserve this very special kind of attention and care, Mugen. And -" I also had to be honest with him. " - And it gives me pleasure to bestow this upon you as well. I am most content in the doing, little boy.

"So I mean to see you receive this very special kind of attention and care henceforth, as often as it is needed. Be forewarned, my beloved brat, for I am watching, as ever I have been, as it is my pleasure to do. You shall not get away with anything on my watch. Behave as you have been and you shall find yourself over my knee as often as it is needed. And you can find a way to explain your constantly red naughty little boy bottom to Fuu."

I meant every word, and he knew it, and, finally, Mugen shattered. A low choking sob burst from him, and that was followed by another, louder sob, followed by another, and another and then a deluge of wrenching sobs exploded from deep within him.

"Y-You l-l-love me, _love_ m-meee," he sputtered through his tears. "Y-You said, l-love m-mee, 'nuff to s-spank, n-nuff to-to . . . ."

"Enough to do it as often as it is needed, yes," I said. "You are forgiven for what happened in the tavern, little boy. All over now. But understand, I was never angry with you. I was angry about what you did. You endangered yourself for no reason. Heed me well, my brat, I'll have no more of it."

And Mugen was gone then, utterly collapsed, weeping with abandon, needing to cry, needing time with his tears and to let everything I had said sink in. I felt that might take a while. Ahh! Sweet, sweet release!

I shuddered, both weary and exhilarated, resting my hot palm on his hotter backside. I briefly wondered if he even realized that I had stopped spanking him. To my surprise I felt a few tears slipping down my cheeks at the sound of Mugen's raw weeping. My disheveled lover gave way with all he had, embracing his surrender wholeheartedly, as he did everything. I released his wrist, watching with a small grin as he left it there at the small of his back. Incredibly touching.

I gazed at him for awhile, lying there over my lap, completely exposed and unguarded, trusting me with his helplessness. A lovely tremor passed through me and my chest thrummed with contentment. Right now, in this moment, Mugen was completely mine, completely safe. I rubbed his back and his sweet red bottom, feeling at peace and settled for the first time since I had spanked him several weeks ago and all this had been set into motion.

But there was a deeply stricken young man collapsed over my knee who was in need of comforting, so I began to 'shhh' him and purr soft non-words of comfort. His weeping actually became a bit more intense, not quite what I had been aiming for, but an understandable reaction. Worthiness was one of those dark inner forces that tormented Mugen, so he struggled to hear my praise.

But I persevered, using what he called my 'little boy speak,' that special language of mine that he clearly loved and hated to admit to loving. I told him how good he was, how brave, how wonderfully obedient. I told him how proud I was of him. And Mugen cried on, less and less violently, though, for I spoke in a soft tone and he needed to quiet down in order to hear me.

I smoothed my palm over his wild hair and lovingly patted his burning bottom and watched, enthralled, as Mugen drank in my attentions, and when I felt he had softened enough I made my move. He was melted and weakened and had nothing to say about what I chose to do next, so when I turned him and gathered up his limp body and held him on my lap, and began to rock back and forth, Mugen could do nothing to stop me save make a few sounds of weak protest, his crying having slowed at last.

"None of that, now, little one," I told him. "Lest you find yourself back over my knee."

He gasped and became rather adorably compliant. I moved up on the futon, stretching out and dragging him up, until he lay half-draped upon me, on his stomach. Mugen's crying had all but ceased. He was now shuddering and hiccuping off and on, again, rather adorably. I feared I was in serious danger of liking this too much. He lay quietly upon me, but I could feel him thinking.

"J-Jin?" he finally ventured, his voice raw from crying.

"Hmm?"

"Y-You wouldn't really d-do this again w-would y -"

"I believe you would say, 'count on it.'" I felt him grin against my chest and decided to give him more to enjoy. "You now know what to expect should you choose to behave in a certain manner. Test me, my brat, and you shall indeed have trouble sitting."

He made a cringing sound in his throat. "How come y-ou're so bossy?"

"Because I am."

Silence. Then: "Oh."

I sensed he had more to ask, but he was also utterly drained. He had yawned several times. I wondered how much longer his curiosity would win out over his drowsiness.

"Jin?"

"Hmm?"

"You . . . you ain't angry at me, right?"

"No. Not at you, beloved."

"You never was."

"No."

"You was angry 'bout what I done."

Smiling at his sloppy-sleepy language, I kissed his brow and said, "About what you did. And yes. I was angry about what you did. Not angry at you."

"Tha's lots diff'ernt."

"Entirely different. Very clever of you." Mugen might have to hear that message often. Clearly it was a new concept for him.

More pondering, then: "Jin?"

"Hmm?"

"How'd you learn so much 'bout that?"

"You mean about spankings?"

"Uh huh."

"In the dojo. There is a hierarchy, the younger students being disciplined when necessary by their mentors."

"So you got spanked, too?"

"When I was very young," I admitted. "Not when I was older."

"So you gave it out? When you got older?"

I sniffed a laugh. "Yes. But it was discipline, Mugen. Not punishment."

"Oh." Silence again, then: "Jin?"

I grinned. "Hmm?"

"There's nothin', well, wrong with me, is there? I mean, I – I asked for it. Like you said. You're right. I did. I went to that tavern 'cause it was close to home, but I-I didn't really think about it -"

"Mugen," I lifted his chin, to gaze down into his glassy eyes, and said, "There's nothing wrong with you. Remember what I said? It is all right to long for attention, even when it comes in the form of a sore bottom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of. And I have nothing to feel ashamed of for wanting to give you this kind of attention."

"You really do want to?"

"I do."

He grinned then snuggled down upon me again. Soon: "Jin?"

"Yes, Mugen?"

"I . . . I dunno how t'say -"

He let go a soft growl. I understood why. Mugen often became upset with what he felt was his inability to express himself well. _"I can't talk as good as you! I dunno how to say it right!" _I knew it to be a source of frustration within him. But I felt, and I often told him, that he had a purity of expression that could not be taught. He would think intensely when he had something important to say, and then he would express his deepest thoughts with a sweet and simple elegance. So it saddened me to see him feeling disappointed in himself.

"Take your time," I now murmured, kissing his head. He thought for a while, then:

"That wasn't like no birthday spankin.'"

I smiled. "No, indeed."

"B-But, Jin?"

"Yes, little boy?"

"It . . . well, I guess I just wanna say thanks, 'cause, that sure weren't no birthday spankin', but it still feels like it were, well . . . like a gift."

I smiled. "Beautifully said, little boy."

He responded with a snore. Ah. My Mugen's sweet and simple elegance.

end


End file.
